The Necklace by Jeanne Forestier
by TheBookOnTheBedstand
Summary: Madame Forestier's POV. The Necklace by Guy de Maupassant


The Necklace

By Jeanne Forestier

* * *

I'm positive that the majority of people I associate with are aware that I'm rather fond of dressing up and flashing my jewels. They assume it comes with the wealth I was born into… But I have just a tiny admission. Even though I'm of this stature, I can't actually afford the life I seem to live. Most of my gems are actually paste. Genuine jewelry is much too expensive. But not a single soul knows that.

Well, except for poor Matilde who had to find out the hard way. I feel so, so terrible for her. It is such a pity that she had to suffer a decade for nothing. It was quite an interesting story though.

A little over eleven years ago, on a warm Wednesday afternoon, my dear friend Matilde Loisel, wife of Charles Loisel, paid me a little visit, wanting to borrow a few accessories for the Ministry of the Public Instruction party that she and her husband were invited to. So I was very much willing to lend her a few but she only chose one necklace. It was one of my favorites, actually. It was one of the paste necklaces but it looked wonderful and that was certainly good enough for me. As far as I could tell, nobody had even suspected that the diamonds were in fact, artificial. Not even Matilde who loved to gallivant around town, entering every dress shop and jewelry store and browse through each display and catalogue. She has always been the type to try hard –probably too hard - to look wealthy. To be honest, her natural elegance and charm were far more than enough to show her beauty and all of the things she put on such as fancy dresses, shiny rings and expensive necklaces spoiled it. I thought her materialistic viewpoint was naïve. But if that was what she willed, then who was I to tell her how to act? Surely, it was not my place.

After she had left, I thought about toning down the extravagance of my clothing. Maybe if Matilde could affirm the saying "Simplicity is beauty," I could too. So I went out to town, wearing only a simple white button-down long sleeved shirt on my torso, a simple light blue ankle-length skirt matched with my top, simple brown loafers on my feet and only simple diamond earrings on my ears. No jewelry adorning my neck nor my wrists. I visited the local café - Monsieur Frederic's Café, - bought a cup of tea and strolled to the park to enjoy it. As I was sitting on one of the benches, feeling a thin layer of perspiration on my neck and forehead and feeling the material of my shirt stick to my back slightly from my walk, a man approached me and asked to sit with me. He was quite handsome. He was a tall, blue-eyed, curly-haired brunette. I couldn't deny that he was attractive so of course, I let him sit next to me. I only expected him to be a pleasant change of scenery for the few moments he remained seated beside me. He _was_ very easy on the eyes. But he surprised me by initiating a conversation.

"The weather seems to be lovely this time of the year, doesn't it?" He asked rhetorically, "…Truly lovely. Just like you. I'm Alfonso Dubois," he says with a lopsided smile, "May I know your name?"

I turned to him and in his eyes, I could see that his words were sincere and his statement wasn't just an attempt at flattery. He truly wanted to compliment me. I blushed and stammered out, "Why th-thank you. I'm not used to receiving this kind of attention. You may call me Jeanne. Jeanne Forestier."

He chuckled a bit and said, "Enchent_é_. I must say you certainly deserve the compliment Madame Forestier. There's something different about you. You aren't over the top like most women. Far from it, in fact. It's refreshing. You look radiant. Your beauty isn't dulled by all the pretty little things I'm used to seeing on them."

There were no words I could use to respond to that so I just gave him a bashful half-smile.

He continued, "That smile is prettier than any pearl that may hang around your neck. It's the best accessory you can wear." He paused for a few moments, smiling, but his face fell as if remembering something unpleasant and added, "I'm afraid it's time for me to go now. I'm not supposed to be here but the sight of you just stopped me in my tracks. I was actually running an errand for a friend of mine. May I see you again?"

"I don't see why not." I said, the smile not leaving my face.

"Wonderful! Maybe we could… Hmm…" The paper cup in my hand caught his eye and he asked, "Get some coffee at Monsieur Frederic's Café at this time next week?"

I put my cup down on the bench and replied, "You can surely count on it."

He nodded then stood up, bowed, took my hand, kissed it, bid me au revoir, and left, still smiling.

When he was out of sight, I sighed happily and shook my head a little. That was an unexpected surprise. I stood up as well and started walking back home, my mind occupied with thoughts of Alfonso, my tea forgotten cold on the bench.

The next day, I received a letter from Charles and Matilde telling me that the clasp of the necklace Matilde borrowed broke and that they would have it repaired before returning it to me. I thought nothing of it and even forgot about it until the night before my arrangement with Alfonso.

The evening before I agreed to see Monsieur Dubois, I had a dilemma. I was pacing in my room, speaking to nobody, saying, "What ever will I wear tomorrow? I could wear my favorite light green blouse and one of my brown skirts. But how am I to accessorize? I think I'll keep the earrings I'm currently wearing. And maybe that diamond necklace I own…" I trailed off and suddenly paused, "…_Oh, but how could I forget? _It is in Matilde's possession! What am I to do now?" I started pacing frantically again muttering, "Maybe I could do without it. Maybe I would still look as pretty as he made me feel. He _did_ say that my smile is better than any pearl. Maybe my outfit's going to be fine." I said, not quite convinced of my own statement. Maybe it was my nerves but my outfit felt incomplete. I sighed and prepared the clothing I planned on wearing the next day.

The following day, as I was getting ready to meet Alfonso, I heard a knock on my door. So I went to answer it. Lo and behold, Matilde stood there, fidgeting, a jewelry case at hand.

"I apologize for the delay. Here's the necklace I borrowed." She said as she handed it to me.

I was so nervous for my meeting with Monsieur Dubois that I answered her in a cold manner, though it was not my intention. "You ought to have brought it back sooner, I might have needed it."

She apologized once more and left. When she turned the corner, I opened the case, took out my necklace, and put it on. I continued my preparations and when it was time, I exited my door to go to the café.

When I walked through the doors, I immediately saw Alfonso, sitting on one of the tables by a bay window with two cups in his hand. I made my way over to him and curtseyed. He put the cups down, stood up, bowed, kissed my hand and said, "Ah, you came. It's wonderful to see you again."

"Likewise," I replied smiling, "Shall we sit?"

He pulled the chair out for me to sit and after I was seated, he handed me one of the cups and asked, "So… Would you like to tell me about yourself?" He took a sip from his cup containing what I assumed was coffee and continued, "I'd quite like to know about the wonder that is you. And by the way, your necklace is exquisite, just like your beauty. And I haven't seen your other gems but I can say that this is my favorite." He finished warmly.

We continued conversing throughout the afternoon and he learned all about my history, my ambitions, and my life as I did with him. We agreed to continue seeing each other as well.

Since that day, whenever Alfonso and I went out, I wore my necklace. It may not be genuine, but he liked it and I liked it so I didn't see the problem. Time passed by oh so quickly and Alfonso and I became lovers and he eventually proposed. I said yes, of course and we started a life and family together.

Those were the thoughts running through my head as I strolled through the very same park my dear Alfonso and I had met in ten years later with our beautiful daughter Katherine. If Matilde hadn't come to me that day to borrow some gems and got me to contemplating toning down the props, I would not have caught Alfonso's eye and we would not have been happily married.

I was brought out of my musings by a lady who looks around fifteen years older than me calling my name. I didn't recognize her but her voice seemed awfully familiar so I stilled and addressed her confusedly, "But… Madame… I don't know… You must be making a mistake."

"No, no. I am Matilde Loisel!"

Well speak – or think, rather – of the devil! I was surprised at her appearance. So I cried out, "Oh my poor Matilde! How much you've changed!"

"Yes, I've had some hard times since I saw you last. And many sorrows… All on your account."

"On my account? How was that?"

"You remember the diamond necklace you lent me for the ball at the Ministry?"

"Yes. Well?"

"Well, I lost it."

"How could you? Why, you brought it back."

"I brought you another one just like it. And for the last ten years we have been paying for it. You realize it wasn't easy for us. We had no money… Well, it's paid for at last, and I'm glad indeed."

"I don't understand. You bought a diamond necklace just like mine?"

"Yes, have you not noticed? They were very much alike." Matilde answered and she continued to tell me about her escapades the week after the ball and how their life was the following decade. After regaling me of her tales, she smiled proudly and innocently.

I stiffened at her story and I was moved so deeply that I admitted with a sigh, "Oh my poor Matilde! My necklace was of paste. It was worth at the very must five-hundred francs."

Her face fell as comprehension settled in her mind and she started attacking me, effectively turning our conversation turned into a cat fight, surely an inappropriate occurrence for two women to be involved in – especially in the presence of a child – in public but that's another story for another day.


End file.
